You Ain't Bullying Anymore
by rynni is happy
Summary: Derrick Dunne gets sent to Camp Green Lake. If you don't know who Derrick Dunne is, he bullied Stanley at school and told Stanley's lawyer that Stanley had an alibi for the shoes. Threeshot
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to Camp Green Lake

**I don't really know where this came from. But anyway. **

**Holes isn't mine. Sigh. **

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><p>Bump. Jostle. Sweat. Turn.<p>

Those were the four things that were happening to Derrick Dunne at that moment. Oh, he supposed he could count staring at the desert something, or being lost in his thoughts, but these were the main four. He'd lost track of how long he'd been on the bus, riding through Texas to this Camp Green Lake. He figured that it would be a while still, though, because he didn't see how a lake could exist in the middle of a desert like this.

Derrick stared out the window. He didn't know what to think. His mind was scattered, remembering his "crime" and being on trial and getting a year and a half at this camp. It seemed to focus on his trial.

He never thought that he would ever be the kind of person that would ever get in trouble with the law. Yeah, he bullied, but that wasn't enough to get you thrown into a juvenile correctional facility. You know, unless the person you bullied killed themselves or something. But even though he thought he was safe, he still ended up in that courtroom. It just went so fast—being in the wrong place, his so-called "friend" accusing him, the policemen's pointed glares, the disappointed look on the judge's face, his mother's sobs. He was framed—framed by his friend, no less—and no one believed him when he told them that. Sure, his parents said they did, but he could see the look in their eyes asking each other where they went wrong.

And now here he was, on a bus with no one but a guard, a driver, and a pair of handcuffs to keep him company, heading off to his doom.

Wow, he was getting melodramatic.

The bus slowed and turned. Derrick could make out a few run-down buildings and tents, but there was no lake. The most prominent feature of the place, though, was the holes. There were _hundreds_: along the road they had just driven on, close to the buildings, and scattered as far as the eye could see. Derrick could make no sense of them.

As soon as he saw a group of boys in orange, he knew that they were in the right place. The boys all were extremely dirty, like they had been playing in the dirt all day. Maybe they had—they were all carrying shovels. Were they the ones that had dug all the holes? If they were, Derrick hoped that he wouldn't have to dig any. He wasn't very strong and holes weren't his thing—he had learned that when he tried to dig to China when he was five. On the contrary, however, these boys were all muscular and strong looking—the kind of people you wouldn't want to mess with.

Derrick looked around. There wasn't much.

The guard pulled him off the bus. Distantly, he could hear cries of "New Meat!" as he walked into what looked like the main building or office.

"Here's the new one," the guard said, not bothering with a hello.

Derrick wasn't really sure who the guard was talking to, as there wasn't anyone in the room. But then he saw the man in the corner, partially hidden by a large filing cabinet.

The man jumped at the guard's voice and turned towards them. He was short and skinny with a messy, unkempt beard. The whole left side of his face was purple and slightly swollen, like he had gotten hit with something not too long ago. His nose was bandaged.

"Ah yes, Derrick Dunne, right?" he said, looking at the guard rather than Derrick.

The guard nodded.

"I'm Mr. Pendanski and I'll be in charge of your tent. And I want you to know that you may have made some bad choices in the past, but they don't necessarily make you a bad person. You can overcome this, Derrick. Mr. Sir will give you a tour and I'll see you in a bit."

Derrick snorted. Mr. Sir? That couldn't be his name.

Mr. Pendanski left the room and a few minutes later another man came in. He was taller and more, shall we say, _rotund_ than Mr. Pendanski, and he also looked a whole lot scarier. Like Mr. Pendanski, his face was a bit swollen and pinkish too, but Derrick knew better than to ask what happened.

"Derrick Dunne," he said, spitting a sunflower seed onto the floor. It wasn't a question. Without waiting for Derrick or the guard to acknowledge him in any kind, he said, "My name is Mr. Sir. You will call me by that name. Got it?"

Derrick nodded.

"This ain't the girl scouts anymore." Mr. Sir got up and handed a soda to the guard, who left. Derrick could see the bus pull away. "Let's go," Mr. Sir said, heading out the door without a backward glance. Derrick followed uneasily.

He wanted to know what this camp was like, but he also wanted to stay inside, because he could see the harsh sunlight beating down on the compacted-dirt ground then refracting and heading towards everything—the tents, the buildings, the people.

Mr. Sir took him to another building that was full of clothes. They were all the same kind of clothes—the orange jumpsuits he had seen the other boys wearing. Derrick swapped his jeans, sneakers, and T shirt for two jumpsuits, a hat, a canteen, and sturdier shoes, all the while learning about how laundry was done and what the showers were like. They left soon after that and Mr. Sir showed him more of the camp.

"There's the mess hall, the showers, the tents, the Wreck Room, and the library," Mr. Sir said, pointing out each thing as they passed it. "The Warden's cabin." He gestured to the largest building on the grounds barring the mess hall.

Derrick nodded.

"There you are, Derrick!" Derrick turned around to see Mr. Pendanski. "Thanks, Mr. Sir, I can take him from here," Mr. Pendanski said to Mr. Sir.

Mr. Sir spat out another sunflower seed and walked away without a goodbye.

"Did he show you everything?"

"Everything but the tents," Derrick affirmed.

"Then let's go to the tent." They walked in silence for a bit before they came to a tent with a big black D on the front of it. Derrick could hear voices inside it.

Mr. Pendanski opened the tent door and they walked in.

"Mom! Who's the newbie?" one of the boys asked. Derrick didn't know who they were calling Mom, since there weren't any girls at this camp, but if he had to guess, he would say that they were probably talking to Mr. Pendanski.

"This is Derrick, _Alan_," Mr. Pendanski said to the kid.

Alan rolled his eyes. Derrick was a little offended; was he really that unwanted?

"My name is Squid," Alan said to Mr. Pendanski.

Mr. Pendanski ignored him and turned to the other boys. "This is Derrick," he said to them. To Derrick, he said, "This is Alan, Theodore, Rex, Ricky, Brian, and José. You guys can tell Derrick how we do things here, right?" He stared at them. They weren't paying attention.

"Yo, _Derrick_, I'm X-Ray," the one Mr. Pendanski called Rex said. "This is Squid, Armpit, Zigzag, Twitch, and Magnet. And that's Mom," he added, pointing to Mr. Pendanski.

Mr. Pendanski—Mom—looked a bit exasperated, like the name thing wasn't anything new. "They all have nicknames, but I prefer to call them by the names their parents gave them, the names society will recognize them by."

"Yeah yeah, society, parents, whatever," the one X-Ray called Zigzag said, waving an arm in Mr. Pendanski's direction.

Mr. Pendanski didn't seem to acknowledge Zigzag and just asked, "Where's Stanley's stuff?"

"There," X-Ray said, gesturing vaguely to a stack of crates along one wall of the tent. "He slept there," he added, pointing at one of the beds.

"So they really think the Caveman's not coming back?" Twitch asked. Derrick noticed that he was the one that seemed the most interested in him, but he couldn't figure out why.

"Who's the Caveman?" Derrick asked, feeling a bit stupid.

"_Stanley _was the previous seventh D Tent boy. He ran away into the desert a few days ago," Mr. Pendanski explained.

"Two. Two days ago. And already they have a new guy," X-Ray said. "There's nothing that we've gotten that says that he's dead."

"X, you're buzzard food after three days. How could he still be alive?" Magnet asked rhetorically. "But maybe he and Zero are havin' a party over a couple of hot fudge sundaes and laughing at our stupidity for staying here."

Now Derrick was even more confused. "Who's Zero?"

"He ran away a few days before the Caveman did. Apparently they were friends," Twitch said. He looked a bit uncomfortable. Derrick wondered if he was the one that got Zero's vacancy. That would explain his fascination with him—Twitch was the newest, so he hadn't had a chance to know what it was like to not be the newbie anymore.

Derrick nodded. "By the way, what's the library? It didn't look big enough for books, and this doesn't seem like the place for one."

They laughed. "It's not books. No one reads here. It's shovels," Armpit said.

"Shovels?"

"Yeah. They didn't tell you? We have to dig a hole every day."

"Why?"

"To 'build character,'" Zigzag said. "But they're looking for something. Remember when you found that shotgun shell, X, and the Warden flipped out and made us dig an underground city looking for something else?"

X-Ray snorted. "But we never found anything. I was almost happy when Mr. Sir told us to go back to digging our own holes."

They passed the night talking (though Derrick did more listening than talking) and not doing anything productive.

That night, as Derrick was lying in bed, psyching himself up for the next day, when he would have to dig his first hole, he was thinking.

There was something that hit him every time someone said the name Caveman. It couldn't be anything to do with the nickname—more likely it was the name that Mr. Pendanski said, Stanley. Derrick knew a Stanley. He had been put on trial, like Derrick, and framed, like Derrick, and sent somewhere to clean up his act, like Derrick. Was it possible that this was the same Stanley?

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><p><strong>Tadaaaa! Chapter one! Next one is when Derrick digs his first hole. <strong>

**By the way, does anyone have a good idea for Derrick's nickname? I have one, but I don't know if it fits just right. I will take anything you can give me. **

**Review please!**

**Rynni**


	2. Chapter 2: First Hole's the Hardest

**Is anyone actually reading this?**

**I don't own Holes.**

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><p>The next morning the wake-up trumpet went off way too early. It was still dark out, Derrick noticed. He made his way to the mess hall with the other boys and sat down next to them.<p>

"What time is it?" he asked drowsily.

"4:30," Armpit said.

Derrick gazed sleepily around at the other D Tent boys. They all seemed to be relatively awake, and not at all mad that they had to be up this early, aside from a few grumbles. They all looked like they understood why they were up in the middle of the night. Derrick had also noticed that they had gotten up relatively quickly for the early hour.

"And why are we up at 4:30?"

"Coolest part of the day," Zigzag explained. "We get up later, we're diggin' in the hottest part of the day. Didn't we tell you that?"

Derrick yawned and shook his head. They most certainly did not tell him that. Otherwise he would've tried harder to get to sleep last night.

"So, _Derrick_," X-Ray said. "What are you here for?"

"What?"

"What did you do?"

"Oh. I—uh—I was framed—"

"That's what they all say," Squid said, laughing.

"My friend wanted to rob a house and mad me come along and then when the police came, he blamed everything on me. Judge sent me here." Derrick went back to eating his soggy cereal, not looking at any of the other boys.

"How long are you in for?" Magnet asked.

"A year and a half," Derrick answered. He would probably be here longer than all the other boys, since they knew each other well and had no doubt been here for a while.

Magnet whistled. "I got a year and a half for stealing a pedigree puppy from a show. And you get a year and a half for breaking into a house?"

Derrick shrugged. "Turns out it was Clyde Livingston's house."

The other boys started laughing.

"Yeah right," Magnet said. "What is it with people trying to rob Clyde Livingston these days?"

"I didn't know that it was his house," Derrick said defensively. "I was just there. Who else stole from Clyde Livingston?"

"Caveman," Squid said, chewing his cereal loudly. "He stole some shoes."

And that was when Derrick knew that the Caveman was Stanley. Stanley had gotten arrested for stealing the shoes, but Derrick told the legal people at his trial that it wasn't possible that Stanley had taken the shoes since they were stolen at 3:15 and he had been fishing his notebook out of the toilet at 3:20. They had seemed pretty interested in that information. And that made Derrick feel bad—they had found out that Stanley was innocent, only to find out that he had run away from the camp.

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><p>"Five feet in diameter, five feet deep. Your shovel is your measuring stick," Mr. Sir said, scraping a spot on the ground where Derrick was supposed to dig. "Once you're done you get the rest of the day off." Mr. Sir stalked away without saying anything more.<p>

Derrick looked at the ground. It seemed pretty solid.

It was already hot out, despite the lack of sunlight. Derrick supposed that he should make the most of the darkness while he could, before the sun came up.

He jammed the shovel into the ground. It didn't even make a mark.

He tried again on a crack in the crusty dirt, and the tip of the shovel made it a few inches in. He carefully turned the shovel up, bringing a small pile of earth with it. Derrick smiled. One tiny bit closer to the final thing.

He continued digging for years, it seemed like, though it couldn't've been too long: the water truck hadn't come yet, and he'd been told it came every few hours.

He shook his canteen. There was about an inch of warm water in the bottom, which he was saving for later. He wanted to ration his small amount of hydration.

His hole was a couple feet deep in the middle, but not at the sides. His piles were a lot bigger—he didn't really know how all that dirt could've fit in his meager hole. Pushing one of the piles out of the way, he plowed on, not trying to notice but failing to ignore the other boys' larger holes and piles.

His hands were hurting. After holding the shovel for hours, he had formed blisters and sensitive spots, but he didn't want to complain. He could hear Mr. Sir's voice in his head: "This ain't the girl scouts."

Derrick ignored the pain in his hands and kept going, only taking a small break when the water truck pulled up. The other boys had an order for the water truck, he saw. X-Ray must've been the leader, since he was one of the last ones to get there, but still got the front place in line. Derrick went to the back, behind Twitch.

Mr. Pendanski was driving the truck. Derrick noticed that he took the key out of the ignition before he got out and put it in his pocket. Derrick snorted; would people really try to steal the truck? Were they really that paranoid?

"How's the first hole going?" Mr. Pendanski asked, taking Derrick's canteen.

Derrick shrugged. "Eh."

"First hole's the hardest, man," Magnet said, slapping him on the back.

Derrick looked at the other boys as Mr. Pendanski was filling his canteen. They all were acting perfectly chipper, even though they had been digging for as long that day as Derrick had. He tried not to look at their holes.

"Here." Mr. Pendanski handed Derrick his canteen.

"Thanks."

He went back to his hole and started digging. He would be the last one out there, and he didn't want to take too long. Everyone else was fast enough as it was.

He dug in silence, only saying anything when the water truck came around again and again, once with lunch. If you could call it that.

One by one, the rest of the boys climbed out of their holes, spat, and walked back to the camp. Derrick kept digging. After the last of his tentmates, Magnet, had gone back to camp, Derrick kept digging.

How long could the day go on?

Finally, his hole was somewhat finished. He laid his shovel on the bottom, spinning it in a circle and scraping off dirt clods. His hole was more ovalish instead of circular, but hey. He could lay the shovel on the bottom and it was five feet deep. It worked.

He sucked up the last of his saliva and spat in his hole, then began the long walk to the showers.

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><p>"Come join our circle, Derrick," Mr. Pendanski said as Derrick entered the tent. He could see that all the rest of the D Tent boys were seated in a circle, along with Mr. Pendanski. Derrick sat down in between Armpit and Squid, leaving his stuff in his crate.<p>

"We're talking about what we're going to do when we leave Camp Green Lake," Mr. Pendanski said.

"Aww, again?" Zigzag asked. "We just did this with the Caveman and Zero. Remember, 'I like to dig holes'?"

Derrick had no idea what he meant.

"We didn't get through everyone when we did it then, and we have Derrick now." Mr. Pendanski leaned back. "Ricky, what are you going to do when you leave camp?"

Zigzag shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'll sing a song and be the next star."

The other boys snorted.

"They want people without criminal records, Zig. And hair that can be tamed," Squid said, hitting Zigzag on the back. "And probably people that can sing, too."

"I can sing," Zigzag said. "You've just never heard me."

There was a bit of an awkward silence, where they were waiting for either someone to speak up or Zigzag to sing. Neither happened.

"Alright, Derrick," Mr. Pendanski said, breaking the silence. Derrick jumped. "What do you want to do?"

"I just got here," Derrick pointed out. He had just dug his first hole, and had hundreds to go. He didn't want to think about when he got out yet. It wouldn't be for eighteen months.

"But these things can go quickly if you don't pay attention. Keep thinking that you won't get out for forever and when you do get out you won't have any plans. So what do you like?"

Derrick was silent. What _did_ he like? He didn't really know. He was still young, and he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. When he got out, he would go back to school, because he wouldn't be smarter than the average high school sophomore. He would probably be held back, yeah, but after high school, he had no idea what he wanted to study in college and what kind of job he wanted. Everything that he liked seemed so childish and unimportant in the real world. Where does bullying get you in the real world?

"I'm not sure what I like that could be useful in getting a job. I mean, I like video games and sports—"

"Video games and sports? You could be some kind of professional player like Clyde Livingston, or you could be one of the guys that designs and tests the video games," Mr. Pendanski suggested. "Anything else you got, boys?"

"You could be a coach of some sort," Armpit said.

"Computer geek," Squid offered.

"A professional video game tester that does nothing else but that," Twitch provided.

"Any of those sound good?"

Derrick shrugged. "I don't know."

There was another silence.

"Well, boys," Mr. Pendanski said, clapping his hands, "time for bed. 4:30 will come bright and early and you have a long day of digging before you." He left the tent.

"Yeah right, bright and early," Armpit said, laughing. Derrick silently chuckled a bit too—4:30 was definitely early, but there was nothing bright about it except for the lights that shined in their faces at breakfast.

Derrick curled up on his bed and fell asleep immediately, his sore muscles and aching blisters not slowing the sleep at all. The last coherent thought he had that night was how much they were going to hurt in the morning.

And hurt they did. He ached so bad the next morning that he just wanted to crawl into one of the holes, even if there were yellow-spotted lizards in it, and sleep for another few hours. But he didn't, choosing instead to grab his shovel and jam it into the ground, knowing that the longer he waited the longer he would be out there, breaking his back.

"Second hole's the hardest," Magnet said, walking back from the water truck later that day. Some of the dirt from the piles outside Derrick's hole shifted and a little of the sandy soil fell back into it. Derrick didn't know if Magnet did that on purpose or not. But if he did, one thing was for certain—they knew how to hit you where it hurt at Camp Green Lake.

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><p><strong>Yeah...review?<strong>

**Rynni**


	3. Chapter 3: They're Alive!

**I hate being sick. Seriously, I'm wearing sweatpants and it's ninety degrees outside. **

**I don't own Holes. **

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><p>"Come on, man. It'll be fun," Joshua had said, slightly pulling on Derrick's arm. Derrick had shaken his head.<p>

"I don't want to rob a house."

It was a simple phrase, and one easy to understand, but Joshua had ignored it in stride. "Why not?"

"Well," Derrick had said, "I don't want to get caught and get in trouble."

Joshua had laughed. "You bully people all the time at school. How is getting caught for that different than getting caught for breaking into a house?"

Derrick remembered that he had just looked at him. "If I get caught for breaking into a house it's a lot more punishable than bullying. No one cares about high school bullies. They're expected."

"But we won't get caught," Joshua had said, his voice soft, like a caress around the few words. He had spoken like it was a given, like it was obvious.

"I'm not going."

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><p>"I can't believe that you got me to go," Derrick had said, hugging his torso as Joshua worked on picking the lock of the front door of the house.<p>

"Believe it," he had said. There had been a small click as the door opened, and they had creeped inside.

"Jackpot," Joshua had hissed, coming across something he no doubt thought was valuable.

"STOP! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP! YOU ARE SURROUNDED!"

Derrick had groaned. This had been exactly why he hadn't wanted to come. He may not have acted like it, but he did care about what happened to his future and what he was going to do. He didn't want it ruined by some stupid thing like this.

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><p>"No, no, officers," Joshua whimpered, "Derrick was the one that wanted to rob the house. I think he was worried that he was running out of money from the other jobs."<p>

Derrick whipped around, not paying any more attention to the officer that was questioning him.

Two of the policemen looked at each other. "What other jobs?" one of them asked.

"Oh, um, oops?" Joshua said innocently, covering his mouth in fake surprise. "I didn't mean to say that. Please ignore it."

"We can't do that," the policeman said. The officer behind Derrick started cuffing him and reading him his Miranda rights.

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><p>"You disgust me," the judge said. "You're from a wealthy, loving family and you still need to rob for happiness?"<p>

"It wasn't me. Joshua wanted to do it. I just wanted to go home, not steal anything—"

But no one listened. Not the judge, not his parents, not any of his other friends. And then he had found his way to camp.

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><p>"Turns out it was one of Clyde Livingston's summer homes, and there wasn't anything valuable there, so there wasn't very tight security," Derrick explained to Magnet and Armpit, the only two that were listening.<p>

"Sucks for you, dude," Magnet said, slapping him on the shoulder.

Mr. Pendanski walked into the mess hall. He walked at a pace that suggested that he was trying to be casual and intimidating, but he really just wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere that most likely didn't involve babysitting them.

"You will not have to dig any holes today," he said.

Derrick was stunned. What was different about today that meant that they didn't have to dig?

Everyone started talking at once.

"Why don't we—"

"What—"

"Mom! No—"

Mr. Pendanski raised his fingers to his lips and whistled shrilly. "You will not have to dig any holes today, but you are to stay here. If you talk, you will be severely punished." He didn't elaborate any further than that, choosing instead to leave the mess hall and go back to where the action was.

Whispers broke out across the hall. No one seemed to think that Mr. Pendanski's threat was legitimate.

"What do you think happened?" Magnet asked.

Squid snorted. "They probably found the buried treasure we're all looking for. They don't see a reason—besides the 'building character' bit—to make us keep digging."

Derrick just sat there speculatively. He had only been there for a week and a half, but he knew that this wasn't normal. Every day was monotonous, the same. Something like this was a delicacy.

They waited. And they waited. And nothing happened. No one came in to tell them what was happening, no one came to tell them what they were supposed to do. Nothing.

"I'm going out there," Armpit said.

"I'll go with," Squid added.

They left. And ran back in.

"It's Caveman and Zero!" Squid yelled. "They're alive!"

Well, that certainly made everyone pay attention. Most of the camp knew who the Caveman was—for some reason that Derrick didn't know—and a lot were enlightened to the fact that Zero was the one that had knocked Pendanski out with a shovel.

Derrick himself didn't know what to think. The day before, Stanley's attorney had come to pick him up, no doubt believing that he was innocent _now_ after he had given Stanley an alibi, but she had left because Stanley wasn't there. Now that he was back, he wouldn't be sticking around long, and that made Derrick happy, or maybe confused? He didn't really want to see Stanley. Maybe he could just hide in the mess hall.

"Come on, Derrick!" X-Ray said, pulling him up and out of the room. Derrick didn't help him along, but didn't sit down and wait to be dragged, either.

And of course, there he was. He wore the same orange outfit that everyone else wore, though his was a lot dirtier. He stood next to a young, short boy that Derrick guessed was Zero—he was also very soiled.

But the most prominent thing about Stanley that Derrick noticed was his weight. He was skinny. Well, a lot skinnier than he had been back at school. It probably just went to show you—digging holes and running away into the desert was one of the most effective weight loss methods ever.

Derrick hung back as the other D Tent boys hugged Stanley and Zero. Even Twitch hugged them, and he hadn't even known Zero.

Zigzag caught site of Derrick. "Come here, boy," he said, dragging Derrick to the front of the crowd. "Come say hey to Caveman and Zero."

"This is Derrick. We haven't come up with a name for him yet," X-Ray said, introducing Derrick to them. Derrick didn't say anything, choosing instead to just look at his feet.

Stanley didn't say anything either. He just put his treasure chest in the back of his attorney's car and ignored the Warden, who Derrick had learned was a woman. He also had learned that Stanley and the Warden were practically on a first-name basis, considering all the times they had talked compared to the rest of the campers.

And then something really strange happened.

There was a clap of thunder and a brief flash of lightning and it started raining. Or, to be more precise, _pouring._

Derrick was stunned. Not once, in his two weeks of being there, had it _ever_ shown the chance of _maybe _raining. And now it was looking like it was going to fill the lake again.

Derrick and all the other boys, including stanley and Zero, ran out from under the overhang and started playing in the rain. It was a nice change from the sweltering heat and bright sun—something that they could get used to.

He vaguely noticed that the attorney general was reading the Miranda rights to Mr. Sir and the Warden. He also vaguely noticed that Stanley was jumping off by himself. He made his way over to him.

Derrick walked up next to Stanley, who stopped jumping.

"I'm sorry," Derrick said, giving no preamble or warning.

"It's okay," Stanley said.

There was a slightly awkward silence.

"So…Camp Green Lake, huh? What'd you do?" Stanley asked.

"Broke into a house."

Stanley nodded. "Nice."

Derrick noticed that Stanley reeked of something.

"What have you been eating? You smell really bad."

"Onions."

"Onions?"

"Onions."

"Where did you find onions in the desert?"

Stanley grinned. "At the top of God's Thumb."

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><p>Later that year, Derrick worked his time off in community service and counseling. He did end up going back to school, but he didn't see Stanley there. He later learned that Stanley and Zero (real name: Hector. Who knew?) had moved and bought twin mansions right next to each other. Derrick figured that the money had come from the treasure chest, since Stanley definitely wasn't rich before.<p>

Derrick's school life improved a lot as he made new friends and dropped bullying. He didn't talk to Joshua at all—and Joshua returned the favor.

There was one thing that kept him thinking of Camp Green Lake. As everyone was boarding the busses to be shipped somewhere else so they could fulfill their sentences, X-Ray had given him a nickname.

Derrick Dunne had been christened Ducky—interchangeable with other terms of endearment—referring to the fact that he was new enough to be considered cute, and therefore needed babying. Derrick was slightly happy that he would most likely not see these guys again, since he didn't necessarily like his nickname, just the fact that he was included enough to be named.

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><p><strong>I didn't know what to call Derrick...but I figured that he was the newbie, the one that got there only to leave again. <strong>

**Review?**

**Rynni**


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